


The Forest Moaned

by AdmirableMonster (Mertiya)



Series: Valentine's Silm Ficlets 2021 [3]
Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: BDSM, Bratting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Subspace, not exactly hate sex, oddly enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/AdmirableMonster
Summary: Maglor and Thranduil in bed.
Relationships: Maglor | Makalaurë/Thranduil
Series: Valentine's Silm Ficlets 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162025
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	The Forest Moaned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StormXPadme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormXPadme/gifts).



> happy valentine's day stormy here is some smut
> 
> thank you so much for pulling me into the fandom and getting me stupid excited about various ships I hadn't even considered and just generally being awesome
> 
> title from The Wind Was On The Withered Heath by Jirt

“I _hate_ you, you’re _awful_ ,” Thranduil tells Maglor as he thrusts into him again, so hard that Maglor’s head nearly hits the headboard.

“Of course you do,” Maglor laughs, then groans as sparks flash in front of his eyes.“ _Ah_ —just like that— _fuck_ —”

Thranduil grunts and bites his neck, his fingernails digging into the fronts of Maglor’s thighs.“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously,” he murmurs, moving his mouth to nip at the top of Maglor’s ear, and Maglor squeaks and groans.

“What on earth would give you that impression?” he gasps, his voice coming out embarrassingly shaky.“ _Ohhh_ —”

“You’re a brat,” Thranduil hisses, and Maglor feels him reaching to the side, grabbing something from the bedside table.A little prickle of unease runs up the back of his neck, and then Thranduil’s hand is slipping something about his cock, something too tight and painful when he’s this aroused.

“ _Fuck_ —what did you—”

“I decided I didn’t want you coming until I let you, _kinslayer_.”

Maglor whines.Thranduil’s thrusts are growing harsher, every one of them striking his core, dragging a dark, desperate warmth as he fucks into him with abandon.“Ahhh, I am not—n-not so cruel as thee,” he whines.“Thou art using me cruelly.”

“Perhaps if you spoke less, you would be a more tolerable bedmate,” Thranduil tells him.His hand tangles in Maglor’s hair and forces his face down into the pillow, thrusting harder, using Maglor’s body as he likes.It sends Maglor spinning into a dim and dizzy space, paradoxically safe and warm and held.There’s moisture on his cheeks, and his cock aches sharply, but it’s all distant, really, taking a back seat to the fact that he is warm, that he is held, that he is absolved.

Thranduil’s mouth is on his neck again, whispering something in his ear, too rapid, too quiet for Maglor to parse when his mind is working so slowly.Some part of him suspects Thranduil is counting on that.But here he is, with Thranduil’s cock working inside him, writhing and desperate in Thranduil’s bed, and here he thinks he will stay, until they are both spent and they fall asleep in one another’s arms.

Strange bedfellows, perhaps, but in the silence and dimness of this space in his mind, it does not seem to matter.


End file.
